


Friendship 101: Redux

by carinascott



Category: Burn Notice
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-22
Updated: 2010-06-22
Packaged: 2017-10-10 05:54:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/96310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carinascott/pseuds/carinascott
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you're a spy, you learn a lot of things. Trust isn't one of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friendship 101: Redux

**Author's Note:**

> **Spoilers: **1x04 – Old Friends
> 
> I initially wrote this fic back in February 2009, with the intention of turning it into a series of fics. That didn't happen, though I haven't given up yet. Anyway, I was rereading it the other day, and though I liked it as it was, I thought it could be better. I wanted to dig a little deeper in to Michael's thoughts.
> 
> FYI, it reads as friendship, but can be read as preslash because if I do go on with a series, it will eventually lead to slash.
> 
> So, here's a revamped version of that original fic. Hope you like as much, if not more, than the original fic. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated.

** _original 2009 fic can be found [here](http://carinascott.livejournal.com/35064.html). _ **

~*~  
_  
When you’re a spy, you learn that the only person you can truly rely on, the only person you can trust, is you. The only friends you have are the ones made while undercover; the only family you have is the one created for your cover ID. Thinking otherwise can get you killed. _

As I watched Sam walk out of the loft, I realized that maybe, just maybe, I should change my way of thinking.

It had always been hard for me to trust anyone. Having an abusive father and an enabling mother didn't help. I'd never known the security of having someone looking out for me, at least not without expecting something in return. It was one of the main reasons being a spy had appealed to me. Part of my job was making sure to never trust anyone, something I'd perfected long ago.

For the first time in my life, hearing the snick of the closing door, I wished I hadn't.

The look on Sam’s face as he’d walked away from me stirred something deep within me. Something I didn’t think even existed anymore.

Longing.

The desire for a real friend. As much as I love Fiona, even if I would never say so out loud, our past makes it hard to consider her a real friend. There's always this note of expectation in our interactions, as if she desires more from me. More than I am willing to give at this point in my life, if ever. But Sam's not like that. All he expects in return is my friendship. And with friendship comes loyalty and understanding.

The kind of loyalty that makes it child's play for Sam to lead the Fed's around by their noses. And the kind of understanding that makes Sam walk away, rather than tell me when I’m being an asshole.

In my line of work, that kind of devotion is unheard of.

Handing Nate his money, I run up stairs to grab a quick shower and change my clothes. Grabbing my cell from my pocket, I call Sam, praying that he’ll answer.

“Yeah, Mike.”

I cringe at the note of resignation in his voice. Sam should never sound like that. It's unnatural.

“Hey Sam. Uhm, how about a drink later? Kinda a peace offering.”

I hear Sam hesitate a bit, and I’m actually afraid that he’ll say no. It would serve me right if he did. There’s a heavy sigh, then “Sure Mike. Sounds good.”

Letting out the breath I'd unknowingly been holding, I nod dumbly, even though he can't see me, and I smile, "Good. See ya then.”

Hanging up the phone I feel freer than I have in a while. Considering the bullet hole in my shoulder, that's saying a lot.

Yes, I’m back in Miami, a place I vowed to never step foot in again. Sure, my mother has me on speed dial and calls me every chance she gets. And of course, I’m struggling each day to deal with this burn notice and being persona non- grata to practically everyone I know.

But I’m forgiven. I’m back in Sam’s good graces. It feels better than I could have imagined.

And maybe now, I can start earning that forgiveness. Maybe it's time I show some loyalty and understanding of my own. After all, giving the FBI some information is not the same as giving them the important information. Feeding them a good lead every once in a while won’t necessarily be fun, but if it means they ease up on Sam, it’s worth it.

Learning to be a friend may take some adjustment on my part. But, for Sam, I’m willing to make the effort.

No one deserves it more.

**END**﻿


End file.
